Humes On Airships
by Lyralamora
Summary: What on earth happened on that airship? Reluctant to revisit the painful memories, Basch finally caves, and decides to tell the story of that night on the airship.


**A/N: **This is a humorous little one-shot of an embarrassing event, taking place on an air-ship. It's a Basch/Ashe pairing, which is far from my favorite. However, I somehow felt it was suitable for this particular story.

So I hope you enjoy, as our favorite captain reminisce over the night he almost got into the princess' bed. Or pants, at the very least.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy XII

HUMES ON AIRSHIPS

A hooded figure crossed the hardwood floor of a seedy Nalbinian bar. His metal-trimmed boots drew unwanted attention, as they clanked hard noisily against the ground. But people would let nothing distract them from their drinks and tetra-master game. The man tucked away one of his blonde locks on stray as he looked around, searching for his companions. The room was dimly lit, and the smoky haze that hung in the air, made them difficult to spot. At last he saw the five comrades, hiding away in the furthermost corner of the room.

The handsome pirate shot a livid glance over his pint of beer, as he mended his bruised eye. He walked over and sat down, not meeting anybodies gaze.

"Ah, our captain has returned. What news?" Balthier asked.

"Next caravan don't leave for another week," he muttered as he drew his hood back.

No one else greeted, but continued to stare down in their drinks, at the floor, or otherwise avoiding eye-contact, save for Penelo and the Viera. The first looked between them all with an expression of the utmost amusement, and the other seemed to be blissfully unaware of anybody at all. At long last the silence became too much for the merry blonde.

"C'mon, you guys! Tell us what happened?"

As no one responded, she nudged Vaan in the ribs. The young man blushed, and shook his head.

"You can tell me Vaan. What where you doing in Basch's bed?"

"Hey!" an insulted Basch shot up. "Not my bed. It was the princess'."

"Given the circumstances I don't think it much matters," the Viera snickered, earning her a grumpy glance from her partner. "Oh, come Balthier. There is very little you can say that will make this whole situation seem less … peculiar."

Basch sighed. "Very well. I'll tell you."

At least now he'd be able to present his version first, editing out the parts he did not want revealed. Looking over at the princess, he drew his breath and commenced into the whole embarrassing escapade once again.

***

The sky-launch was uncomfortably crowded after spending weeks in solitude, fighting their way back to Rabanastre. It was unusual to see a bar this crowed in the early after-noon hours. Apparently people felt that usual decorum did not apply here, and that getting drunk at three in the afternoon was quite alright. The sound of clinking glass and easy chatter filled the room. A man subject to the unfortunate combination of being both tone-deaf and drunk could be heard singing over the talking crowd. In the corner stood one grim and rather disapproving captain, searching for his protégé.

The cramped and smelly atmosphere stood in sharp contrast to the clean, cold air he'd grown so used to. He'd never really though much of the importance of it. Not before his incarceration anyway. But now this smelly, cramped bar almost seemed like a cell. And he could not get out. Unless he felt that a thousand feet pummel to the Dalmascan desert would be preferable. And he was not that desperate. Not yet.

Basch coughed irritably as a certain skypirate blew a puff of smoke right in his face, as he strolled by in the direction of the air-hostess. Balthier had decided to share with them all a particular fantasy of his before they got on board. His venture was therefore easy to guess. Nevertheless, Basch managed to get hold of the pirate, and spun him around. The man would not easily be prevented from his task, and Basch needed to keep a tight grip, before hollering over the chatter of the crowd.

"I need a word with the princess. You haven't happened to see her?"

Balthier, though rather drunk, managed to fill his slurred voice with the usual amount of arrogance.

"Speak a little louder, would you. I'm not certain everybody hear that we're travelling with the princess of Dalmasca. My god, you've known her for how long? Why don't you just call her Ashe?"

"Mind your tongue, pirate, and answer the bloody question," Basch growled, shaking Balthier ever so slightly.

"Relax my good man. Here," he grabbed a drink from a passing wench, and stuck it in Basch empty hand. "Have a drink. 'Tis on me. I very much doubt you'll find our mighty princess with this lot."

He let Balthier get back to his business, and sipped pensively at whatever was in that glass. He followed the pirate with a suspicious glance, where he had taken another pause, to admire the rear of some woman. Basch, in a momentary lapse, did the same, as it was rather well-shaped. The skimpy, pink skirt didn't cover much else, and he let his eyes gaze down her pale legs.

The captain froze. Pink skirt, bare legs. He blushed as he realized he'd finally found her. Suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to hide and never see her again, he did not intend to follow through with his plan. However, this was the moment that the pirate decided to grope her. Ever chivalrous, Basch rushed to her aid, still a little flushed from his own, inappropriate ogling.

A few quick paces across the room, and he had planted his fist in Balthier's nonplussed face. Ashe spun around in surprise.

"Basch! Whatever are you doing?" here eyes where fierce and disapproving. "This is hardly the time for a barroom brawl," she scolded, making him feel ever more ill at ease.

"I am so sorry, m'lady. But his conduct was simply unacceptable. Now, if you'll please follow me."

Though the look of defiance that marred her features was the usual one, he could see she was drunk. And as he saw the singer, who was none other than Vaan, climbing up on the counter, to give the whole assembly a show, he decided enough was enough. Determined not to endure one moment more of that poor boys cry for attention, he seized hold of the princess and dragged her forcefully out of the room, leaving one unconscious pirate face flat on the floor, and one drunken teenager howling on the counter.

***

"Stop it! Let me go this instant!"

She struggled in his grip as he dragged her down the hall to her chamber. She had naturally gotten a private room, and Basch had hoped they could discuss the plan for obtaining the dusk-shard in private. It would seem he had to play maid, and put her to bed instead.

"You are drunk. You need sleep. Now come along," he muttered, rather impatient. This had none affect whatsoever. Basch, who noticed that Ashe was less than aware of the state of her clothes, was worried that her skimpy outfit would somehow get out of place as she fought him to get free. Once again he felt blood rise hotly to his cheeks.

"Stand still, will you," he commanded angrily, and rather out of place, as he searched in her bag for the key. She would never have accepted an order in sober condition. At the moment, she seemed a little intimidated by his anger, and stood still as he rumbled through her stuff.

"Where did you put that damned key?"

"Oh, Basch, such bad language. I do believe that pirate has corrupted you."

'In more ways than you think' he muttered to himself, as the though of having he search her pockets struck him in horror.

"Where did you put the key, Ashe?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Don't remember."

He sighed. "Well it's not here. It must be in your pocket."

He could see she was not going to cooperate with him. His hand went hesitantly for her waist. The pink, leathery fabric was a lot thinner than it appeared. As he stroked down her thigh, searching for the nearly invisible pocket, he wondered why in all of Ivalice a princess would wear such a slutty skirt. That, amongst other things. At last he located the pocked. By then, Ashe had not yet attempted to flee. Triumphantly, he pulled out the key, and opened the door. She went in without complaint, having seemingly given up an escape. Dragging her feet, she did not at all look the part of a mighty princess. The tumble she made while crossing the threshold was also rather inelegant. Basch rushed forward, grabbing her waist, making sure she did not fall. As he had placed her back on her feet, she suddenly became limp in his hands, head resting on his shoulder.

"Tired," she mumbled childishly.

"How you managed two whole years with that hoard of barbarians that is the resistance, I'll never know," he mumbled as he shut the door. "Come now, up you go. You can at least make it to the bed?"

But it would seem that the habits of her previous, spoiled life, was resurfacing. She shook her head and threw her arms around his neck. The metal of her armor scratched his skin.

"Carry me."

He was disgusted by himself. By the sudden awareness he felt of her soft skin beneath his hands that still rested on her waist. By the thoughts that rant trough his mind and the warm, pulsing feeling that ran through his body. But, nevertheless, he obeyed.

She was light as a chocobo's feather, lying limply in his arms. It was a short (too short) walk, from the door to the bed. More like two steps actually. He put her carefully down on the bed. Even though it was not big, it filled most of the room. Basch could not remember the last time he slept in a real bed. Two years in prison, and then a quest to save Dalmasca. Even before that, back when he was a captain, luxury had been scarce.

She stretched on the bed, unaware of the seductiveness in witch she moved. To avoid the sight, Basch sat down at the edge of the bed, and began prying of her boots."

"Why did you hit Balthier?" she suddenly asked.

"Er … well," he stuttered, as a pale leg became visible underneath the boot. "He was touching you."

"I can handle that pirate you know. He would never really go after someone like me. Even he knows that's too far."

"Uhum."

His hands slid down the other leg, opening the clasps, gradually revealing the soft skin. Trying very hard to fulfill his role as the trustworthy bigger brother of the group, he realized that even Balthier was a better man than he was. At least the pirate was honest about his intentions. At least he knew where to draw the line.

"Why did you never tell me you have a brother?"

"You never asked. And it is not something I flaunt."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to …" she trailed of, obviously sensing this was a forbidden aria.

"I'd rather not speak of my brother, of you please. Now, you must get some rest."

As he stood to leave, Ashe bolted upright in the bed.

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Aren't you going to rest? You've barely slept at all this past week. You're exhausted."

That was true. However, he would rather sleep on the windy observation-deck, rather than share this comfortable bed with her.

"Perhaps. But there are no available beds. And I do think it's frowned upon when you camp on the floor."

"Oh, come now, Basch. You can sleep here. Surely there's nothing wrong about that?"

Nothing wrong about that? How naive she was. Though, that she did not suspect her fathers thirty-six year old captain to think of her as anything but an untouchable princess, was perhaps not that odd after all.

"Basch, really, you need sleep." She moved to the edge of the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down. He considered making a run for it, but that would seem less than manly. He would just have to endure it. He was very tired, after all. So he kicked of his shoes and lay down.

Ashe had moved on to the task of removing her armor. Her gauntlets, her collar, her belt. Even the tiny vest-thing she had under the white blouse. Garment after garment came off, leaving ever more of her skin visible to Basch's unresisting glance. As she sat there in only her skirt and top she noticed his fixed stare.

If it had not been for her drunken state, she would have left it at that. But then she asked the question only someone really drunk would ever ask.

"Do you want me?"

The laughter in her voice was perhaps the most horror-striking. He had thought the matter disgusting, yes. She was so much younger than him. He'd watched her grow up. And he was supposed to be her protector. She depended on him. But laughable? Because he was so old, perhaps. Or so much lower than her. Or simply because she did not find him attractive. There could be many reasons, but none encouraged him to answer her question truthfully. He was about to stutter out some lie, but then her hand was on his thigh, sliding upward. Had it not been for the fact that he had not been with a woman in over two years, added with the state of undress of the princess, he might have been able to resist. But he was tired, his willpower weakened. So he leaned forward, closing the scarce distance between them.

At first she seemed shocked by his kiss. He was about to pull back, when he felt her lips move hesitantly against his. The oddity of finally kissing her, made his movements hesitant. Then her tongue briefly greased his, and he made and involuntarily growling sound. As he drew back, she seemed disappointed. His hands moved to take of his vest, but suddenly stopped short.

"Ashe. I … I'm sorry –"

"Don't care," she mumbled, her hands prying of his vest and began unbuttoning his shirt with frantic movements.

"No, but you're drunk. You're not thinking straight."

With a willpower he did not know he possessed, he pried away her hands. After sensing the no was final, she shrugged indifferently and lay down.

"You're loss, captain."

"I'm sure it is," he muttered as he turned his back on her waiting for sleep to come.

***

When Basch awoke, it was not yet morning. They had gone to sleep in the middle of the day after all. A voice over the speakerphone announced their pending arrival in Nalbina, woke him. His mind was groggy with sleep, his mind working very slowly. Why was there an arm around his waist? And whose head was resting on his bare chest? He lay there, feeling the soft breathing in and out. It made his skin shiver in delight.

Not wanting to end the moment, he lay very still. They would soon have to leave anyway. And her leg moving up his was so exquisitely delightful. But, hold on! How on earth could she get her leg on that side, when hear head was on the other? Basch's eyes flew open, and the whole scene unraveled before him.

The skypirate was lying with one firm grip around the princess, his leg thrust over Basch's. Vaan's multitude of blond locks covered his chest, the boys legs pushed over the edge of the small bed. His own arm had somehow snuck itself around Balthier's shoulders. Horrorstruck, Basch tried to edge his arm away without waking any of his bedmates. But as the door crashed open, and Penelo, followed closely by the tall, elegant Fran became visible in the doorframe, the others began to awake.

Balthier let out a disgusted growl, and pulled his leg away quickly. Ashe jumped up, out of the arms of the pirate. Vaan rolled over, making loud gagging-noises.

The Viera crossed her arms, Penelo breaking out in laughter.

"What is it with humes on airships?" the Viera muttered as she shook her beautiful head.


End file.
